Sarah Polley’s “Away from Her” is a moving and realistic portrayal of dementia, showing
not only the gradual loss of memory but also the emotional impact the disease has on
both the person whose memory is failing and the loved ones who care for them. Rather
than focusing on dramatic medical events, the film captures the subtle, everyday
moments that signal something is changing.

From its opening scenes, the film signals how subtly cognitive decline can enter a life.
The earliest signs of Fiona’s dementia are especially memorable because they are so
ordinary. She absentmindedly puts a frying pan in the refrigerator instead of returning it
to the cupboard. It is a simple mistake, but it hints that her thinking is becoming
disorganized. Another uncomfortable moment comes when she blurts out, “That is an
ugly baby,” in a doctor’s office waiting room, directly in front of the baby’s parents. Her
lack of a social filter is both embarrassing and heartbreaking, illustrating how dementia
can affect judgment and impulse control long before memory loss becomes severe.

Julie Christie’s performance as Fiona is remarkable. She doesn’t play these moments
for shock. Instead, she lets them pass with a kind of puzzled grace, as though she
herself is watching her mind from a slight distance. Grant, her husband, played by
Gordon Pinsent, notices each slip but tries to absorb them quietly, as spouses often do.
He is the protector, the historian of their shared life, the one who remembers for both of
them.

One aspect of the film that surprised me was Fiona’s clarity and decisiveness about
entering a care facility. Long before Grant is ready to confront the reality of her decline,
she calmly states that she wants to go.

I had expected that her husband, Grant, would be the one to decide that it was time for
a higher level of care. Often it is left to adult children who must initiate the conversation,
gently or reluctantly. Instead, Fiona recognizes that she is changing and accepts that
professional care is becoming necessary. That reminded me that many people in the
early stages of the disease retain enough insight to recognize their decline, even though
they cannot stop it. Here, Fiona chooses to spare Grant the burden of watching her fade
at home. Both she and Grant understand what they are about to lose.

The film explores the emotional burden placed on spouses as caregivers. Grant
struggles with feelings of helplessness as he watches the woman he has long loved
slowly drift away. One of the most painful realities depicted in the film is that dementia
does not simply erase memories; it changes relationships. Fiona eventually forms a
close attachment to another resident of the care facility, leaving Grant to wrestle with grief, jealousy, and guilt. The film avoids easy answers and instead presents caregiving
as an act of enduring love that often requires tremendous sacrifice.

I recently showed “Away from Her” to a group of adults between the ages of 70 and 95 in
our senior community of Havenwood Heritage Heights. The film resonated deeply with the audience. Rather than simply discussing the plot, many people began sharing personal memories and stories about a spouse, friend, or parent who had experienced dementia. The conversation became much more than a movie discussion. It gave people an opportunity to reflect on their own experiences with memory loss, caregiving, and the emotional challenges that may be ahead in their own aging.

Ultimately, “Away from Her” is not a film about loss so much as it is about love — love
stretched thin, love reconfigured, love remembered even when memory itself falters. It
is a gentle, unflinching reminder that dementia affects not only the person diagnosed
but the entire constellation of relationships around them. It is one of the most honest
portrayals of aging ever put on screen.

“Away from Her” can be streamed with subscriptions on Starz and YouTube TV and
rented on Google Play, YouTube, Apple TV, Prime Video, and Fandango At Home.